


(Insert Title Here)

by PartilliaPie



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: A pun happens, AFAC Reference, Abuse, Alternate Universe, But this story is clean I swear, Enslaved humans, F/F, F/M, Fontcest, Gen, Human Pets, Human class system, I'll edit the tags as the story goes, M/M, Memes, Misunderstandings, Reedz doesn't talk much, Self Insert, Shock Collars, Sign Language, Slave abuse, Swearing, Underfell, cats are blessed, just bear with me here, now that i think about it, reader is female, soul torture, wtf Frisk?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-09-20 23:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9520871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PartilliaPie/pseuds/PartilliaPie
Summary: Long ago, two races ruled over Earth: Humans and Monsters.One day, war broke out between the two races.After a long battle, the monsters were victorious.Exile would not have been a cruel enough punishment....Many years later...Home City, 209X.





	1. Your Cage is Small

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, loves! I'm Partillia Pie and this is a story I'm writing! I don't really know if I'm actually going to do anything with this, but I've already written a very small first chapter (like, seriously, this is short), so why not jump in and try I guess?? I just hope people like the story :)
> 
>  **Updates will be sporadic.**
> 
> Also, I might not update the story for, like, a month, but the tags might be added to or a paragraph or two in the story might be cleaned up. So I may not be here, but I'm totally here.

Your cage is small.

It's bigger than the last one, but it's still small. In this one, you can stretch your legs out enough that your knees don't press into your face, so that's a bonus. Of course, it's several minuses that you are currently in a cage.

You could call it cold in here if you were paying attention. You don't really care what your skin is feeling. If you pay attention, you can feel your old, worn leggings, holding on to you. You pick a piece of nonexistent lint off of your shirt.

Speaking of nonexistent...

Through the bars, there is darkness. Just a whole bunch of nothing. Nobody else is here with you. The only thing here is you and the sound of your shallow breaths.

It's annoying. You blink a few times to try and see if there's anything outside of your cage, but nothing appears. Nothing.

You curl into yourself, your knees pressing to your face. Curling into a ball of you. And you stay like that for a while. Just staring out of your cage, making yourself as small as possible. You're like that for what feels like a few hours.

Then the clicks start.

You jerk out of your position, looking for the source of the noise, but you can't see anything, you can't see anything. There's just darkness outside of your small cage.

The clicks sound like they're moving. They tap closer, and closer, and closer. And then tap past you, just a bit.

There's a flick.

There's light.

And someone yells, “Everybody up! Shop's open!”

You wake up with a sound of disagreement and straighten up as much as you can. A quick glance around gives way to several little children and adults looking for a good pick.

The little reptilian girl pokes her hand into one of the cages when her parents aren't looking. The teenage dog boy is taking pictures of everyone for sale.

Yup, the human “pet" shop is open.


	2. Somebody Once Told Me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *throws a table* Hey look, more writing.

Slow day today. 

It's the middle of the afternoon, you guess. Only two people bought (they purchased L-168540 and D-975790), and about six people are browsing. You listened in on a few conversations that didn't really hold anything, so that wasn't much.

Overall, slow day. 

As much as you adore sitting here and not doing shit, this is more boring than usual. So, you try giving yourself a little entertainment today.

You poke the person in the cage next to you, S-853804. She perks up, but doesn't say anything. Both of you know that the store clerk hates it when you guys talk. Though, that was a rule you were about to break anyways. Just not yet. You use sign language to talk to her for now. 

‘Hey, remember the song I showed you guys last night?’

‘Of course I do! Last night's lesson was interesting.’ She responds.

‘Good, good. Tell everyone to act natural if I do something, okay?’ A smile plays at your lips, and you're not trying to hide it in the least.

‘A-19, what are you planning this time?’ She looks scolding, but you can tell she wants in. When you get like this, things turn out interesting.

‘Something fun! Now, just pass it on to act like nothing's happening, okay?’ 

‘I'm on it!’ She turns around and starts signing to the person next to her. A good five minutes later, S-85 gives you a thumbs up to indicate that everyone's gotten the message to ignore you. 

You do the dramatic action of looking left then right even though you're getting caught either way. Once the nonexistent coast is clear, you take a deep breath and sing loudly, 

“Some-body once told me,  
That you were gonna troll me!  
All the anons wishing  
That I was de-ad!”

The blue lizard clerk (you think his name is Drake or something) sighs in exasperation and starts marching to your cage while the rest of the shop is completely quiet. He probably thinks that you lost your mind or something- this is a weird song, after all. He kicks your cage, making you jump, but you just keep singing,

“You were looking kind of stressed  
With your knife lodged in your chest  
So it's time you got out  
If my he-- ACK!!”

You choke in surprise as you're yanked out of your cage by your collar. Apparently, the clerk opened your cage without you noticing. He lifts you up, high enough that your feet don't touch the ground. You start grabbing at the collar, trying to gain some slack between it and your neck before it starts choking you.

“Really, A-19,” he shortens your name code, “I'm starting to think you prefer getting in trouble.”

You manage to slip a couple of fingers in and you take in a breath of air. “What can I say, I'm a troubled pet. I need punishment if you want me to work right,” you humor him.

That's a half truth, actually. You don't particularly enjoy getting in trouble, but unnecessary tension is a blood instinct for you. This isn't really the first time you've stepped out of line and certainly not the worst time, but the staff seem to be getting tired of it. So tired of it, in fact, that things like this end up happening.

“Punishment, huh? Who could have known that humans could be such masochists?” He emphasizes his last word by jerking you by the collar, making the metal start to dig into your fingers. 

He tosses you onto the floor, hard. You look up and see that the shoppers are staring, someone's filming, and you can hear someone snickering. Everyone in the cages are acting aloof, like you asked them to, but you can tell that they're regretting allowing you to do this. Usually, it's an ‘all of us or none of us' type of thing, but given your track record--

Your reverie is cut off by a kick to the ribs. Yup, that's gonna hurt in the morning. Your body instinctively curls up to be protected from any further damage. He does it again and again, striking places on your torso that seem like they'll hurt; and really, they hurt.

He's about to kick you again when, suddenly, you see him get pulled back.

“What the hell!” He yells, startled. He whips around and attempts to pull his arm out of the other's grasp.

The monster holding him back is kind of blurry, the pain making the things around you hard to decipher correctly.

Whoever the new person is decides to speak up, “buddy, you do know it's kinda considered wrong to beat up the pets, right?”

The clerk snickers at the scolding. “Then I guess I'm lucky,” you involuntarily cry out when he forcefully lifts you up by your hair, “A-190775 is a slave class. With this troublemaker all cleaned up, I guess it's hard to tell the difference, though.”

“a slave class? you're pullin’ my femur here!” The new monster has a deep voice. He almost sounds astonished.

”Oh, I wouldn't call A-19 a pet even if I wanted to! Her old owner used to run this place, and when he kicked the bucket, we were left with this one. And trust me, she's a handful.” You hold at your scalp as he makes the word ‘handful' a play on words by jolting your head.

Your vision starts clearing up bit by bit and you see that you are being held up to a skeleton monster. He seems to be casually studying you, so you study him right back. He has on a dark jacket with basketball shorts, and his shoelaces are untied. Comfort over fashion makes the most sense. He has a fake golden tooth. The wound isn't recent, you can guess that much. His pupils are red, but one seems to be dimmer than the other, like it'll flicker out at any moment. Is he blind in his right eye? Maybe… 

You seem to have missed that they were having a conversation because suddenly, all eyes are on you; well, everyone was already looking at you, but now it's more direct. Even the caged humans have gotten interested enough to look.

“Um…” You're definitely uncomfortable…

“She's not for sale. She's too much of a loose cannon to burden anyone with,” the clerk says.

Oh. So that's why everyone's staring.

“i can deal with a loose cannon any day. have you met paps and undyne?” He chuckles, “so, do we have a deal or not?” He holds up a bag of gold. Slaves run a much higher price than pets, so it's kind of surprising that he would have so much gold on him at a pet shop.

The money offer seems to convince the clerk enough to put you back in your cage and start filling out paperwork.

S-85 is looking at you like your head just fell off and you don't blame her. Nobody buys you. You've lived your whole life here, working, until your owner died. From then on, the shop has been trying to get rid of you. You've never really sparked anyone's interest (and when you did, you always found yourself back here).

Plus, you aren't a really good slave, to be honest. You're too out of practice. All you can really remember is that you do whatever your owner tells you or the collar around your neck makes you do it after giving you a nasty shock. When you stopped getting orders, working was a rare occurrence. They gave you food everyday like all of the pets along with the occasional hose down. When they had no reason to give you free range, they put you in a cage on display. You basically became a odd pet…

You look at S-85, the closest person you could say that you're mutual alliances with. You give her a big thumbs up and sign ‘I'll be back in a week.’ Because you're sure you will. You've never been gone longer, really. 

She nods at your assurance, knowing that you're probably right, having seen it firsthand. You two talk for a few more minutes until your cage is being picked up.

Paperwork’s done. Time to go…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!


	3. Difficult Stupidity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shiz! People are actually reading this weird stuff I write! :3

You wave to everyone as your cage is carried out. You're sad to go again. What is this? Sale number 19? Yeah, this is 19. You were sold, kept for a heartbeat, then sent back for one reason or another. Most of them were good reasons.

Since your original owner died, the workers here didn't really know what to do with you. His daughter who inherited the store didn't want you, she already had a slave who didn't get along with others. You don't know what she actually thinks of you, but it doesn't really matter, huh?

When she didn't want you, they started selling you away. To say the least, it was pretty bad. To say the most, you bit five people, didn't make a good “house pet" (but you'll blame the workers for trying to pass you off as a pet class human), ran away twice, and you may or may not have snapped two dogs’ necks, but who's asking?

You just weren't meant to leave the store.

You opt to just fall asleep after they throw you in the trunk, like the usual routine. Honestly, it's better to sleep while you still can. Some monsters make it a mission to make sure you get the bare minimum. 

You don't even wait for them to throw you in, you just close your eyes and…

“kid.”

You open your eyes and see that your cage is on the floor with the latch opened. On the outside is an expectant skeleton, leaning on a red car. It seems he's testing your self control. You're not stupid. You know this trick. If you leave the cage, you're in trouble. If you stay, you did a good job. It's a cliche. You think you've done it right until there's a tapping in your cage.

“‘ey, kid? do you always zone out like that? or are ya just ignorin’ me?” The last sentence holds a tone that dares you to let him be right.

You shake your head quickly. Getting sent back on the same day by someone who hasn't even found anything really wrong with you yet is just sad. Plus, you don't even know if this skeleton will kill you or not if you tip the boat over too much.

You almost zone off again when he cuts in, “well, if that's the case, how ‘bout you come outta there ‘nd get in the car?”

You're confused. No trunk? You give him a questioning look and he mirrors it, but his demeanor is much more comical now. What's going on in his head? You push the cage door open, cautiously. You crawl out of the cage with as much grace as one can when getting out of a cage. And by that, you mean no grace at all. Dignity? Maybe. Grace? No. Only cats were given that victory.

You stand up in front of him and… Wow. He's not exactly tall, at most he has four inches on you, but he's massive. It's almost as if his hand could take up half of your forearm. What you aren't really getting, though, is how is he filling out his clothes? He's supposed to be skeletal, right? Maybe he's just big boned?

….

Okay, what the fuck was that?

Ew. Hopefully, that's the last skeleton pun you ever hear again. That was just distasteful.

“see? that wasn't so bad, right?” He starts raising his hand at you.

Wait. No. What the fuck?! You didn't even do anything wrong! You did what he said and he's trying to hit you for it?! This smug jerk! That's not fair at all!

He shouldn't see it coming. Before his hand can make contact, you drop down and take a swipe at his feet. Right at his ankles, just to trip him and maybe you can make it back to the shop or just hide somewhere…

You don't see it coming. Your leg hits nothing. _He was just there, what the--! ___

“retribution.” The voice comes from behind you, cold and firm.

To be honest, you've forgotten how much these collars can mess a person up. The moment you're reminded, you can't even brace yourself to not scream. The shocks run through you, hitting every nerve. You fall on the ground, curling up in a ball as if that can somehow make it stop, but it doesn't and you know it won't. 

Are you crying or are your eyes bleeding from the onslaught? It's hard to tell. You can't tell anything. Your thoughts are running rapid.

_Oh God, it hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtspleasemakeitstop **letmeblackoutplease!! ** __****_

You don't even know if these are your thoughts anymore or if you're just blindly screaming the words. Maybe you were screaming, because a few seconds later, you can barely hear him say, “mercy,” and the shocking stops. You lay there, still rigid, trying to calm yourself down.

He crouches down next to you and turns you so that you're facing him. You flinch, but you don't fight him. He backs up a couple of feet to give you space in case you lash out at him.

“so, kid,” he talks like he's speaking to a five year old on timeout, “tell me why ya did that. you don't seem the type to be that difficult.” You're pretty sure you hear him mumble “or stupid”, but you're not sure. 

Your vocal chords don't really have the ability to say anything properly at the moment, so you just sign to him. Hopefully, he can read it. ‘You were going to hit me. I didn't do anything and you were going to hit me.’ You want to tell him off about it, maybe agitate him about how much of a jerk he is, but you don't want to move more than you have to.

He swears to himself and rubs a hand down his face, suddenly exasperated. He doesn't say anything as he stands back up and walks over to you. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands hook under your knees and back. He places you in the backseat of the car and puts a strap over your torso. You look out the window and see him picking up your cage. He shoves it in the trunk and moves up to the driver's seat. He starts up the car and backs out. After a few more minutes of this awkward silence, the skeleton driving is the one to break the ice.

“hey, uh, if ya wanna sleep, go ahead. we've got a lot to do when we get home.”

An overanalyzation of his statement is what you would usually do, but… sleep sounds like a better idea at the moment…

You're out without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Why do you flinch so hard when someone touches you?"


	4. Ground Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been trying to make each chapter 1,000 words or more, buuuuuuuuuuuuuut about 700 is good enough, right?

“... take three…”

...

“...n my way…”

...

“...ou’d think she's…”

…

…

...

“...id? kid, c’mon, wake up. we're home.”

Your eyes open slowly and you look towards the source of the voice. The skeleton guy has turned around and is facing you from the driver’s seat. You lift your head up to look around, but immediately put it back down at the sudden discomfort.

You groan and rub your neck. Ugh, you slept with your head at an awkward angle... How long were you asleep? It's dark out, so probably a few hours. You remember bits and pieces of passing conversations, but you can't remember much. You undo your seatbelt and look at the skeleton expectantly, waiting to be allowed out if the car.

He seems to read your thoughts and says, “not yet. before we go inside, we have ta lay down some ground rules.”

You nod slightly and lean back in your seat, ready to listen. You’re not really planning on breaking the rules, but there’s a high probability that you'll end up breaking half of the rules.

“rule 1: break any of the rules and i'll turn yer collar on and put it onna timer ta go off for five minutes every hour.” Okay, so don’t break half of the rules. His eyes flash to your collar and up to your face, making sure you get the point. It's enough time to torture you, but a long enough break that you can't get used to it. He’s either really smart or a sadist...

He continues, “rule 2: don't lash out in there. we won't hit ya. clearly, you've never played chicken or anything, so i made sure to tell everyone you're a bit trigger happy.”

You're about to retort that “trigger happy” is a bit of an understatement, but he continues before you can say anything.

“rule 3: this is a big house with a few people that talk with actions if words aren’t helpin’ ‘em. don't be a smartass with anyone here.”

You make no promises.

“rule 4: ya get yer own room. have fun with that.”

Wait, how was that-

“rule 5: you have free range of the house. don't break anything, ‘kay?”

Okay, you can d-

“rule 6: you might be left at home by yourself or with the kid a lot, so don't blow the place up, will ya?”

IT WOULD BE NICE IF HE STOPPED CUTTING OFF YOUR FUCKING TRAIN OF THOUGHT!

Thankfully, though, he seems to finally be done. Now to mull over this information…

Number one, break the rules and bad time ensues. Less of a rule, more of a statement, actually. You'll be sure to keep this rule in mind...

Number two, don't fight or cause fights. You can't really control your outbursts. You have too many knee-jerk responses… Fuck, your collar is gonna kill you, isn't it?

Number three, don't be a smartass to anyone. So watch your mouth? You can muffle it, but you can't suddenly just stop. Belonging to a business monster brings up some really bad habits that can really bring out your inner cunning and bitchiness. That censoring is gonna take a while…

Number four, you get your own room. Good for you?

Number five, don't break anything. Well yeah, that's a no brainer. Break a plate, they'll break your arm. Or both. Maybe a couple of fingers bent the wrong way for good measure. Then give you a few days to ‘think about what you've done' before healing you.

Number six, don't blow up the house and the kid. Blow up the house? You're not that crazy. And you're pretty good with kids! Your old owner made you watch the little ones all the time while he went on business. You could definitely handle any ki-...

Wait, there's a kid here?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A kid??


	5. Home

You're let out of the car and shiver as the cooling air hits you. The skeleton asks if you're okay, but you say that you're fine. He grabs a bag out of the front seat and leads you towards the house, but you barely notice as your mind starts to wander...

A kid here... That raises a lot of observations and questions.

A small skeleton is running around? How old are they? So does that mean that this guy has a wife? You honestly can't really see him as a family man… Or maybe the first impression is what fucked that up for you? Maybe after a week you'll get a better understanding of him and his lifestyle, but for now, FOCUS! The kid is old enough to burn down an entire house apparently? Or maybe they're a fire elemental…. But the skeleton seems to use the term ‘kid' casually. He calls you ‘kid' and you don't even wear a striped shirt anymore. There's just too many possibilities to place into one category based off of guesses.

The skeleton stops to unlock the door. Three locks seems like overkill, but all’s their own.

The door is opened and… Wow. That's a lot of red and black. Of course, those are the colors of the kingdom, but this house seems to be in it for the long shot. You step inside and the black carpet is surprisingly soft under your bare feet. The skeleton closes the door and drops the bag behind him.

“boss!” He calls into the house. “hey, bro, are you home? i brought the new pet!”

New pet? You hear movement on an upper level of the house. You give the skeleton a confused look, hoping for some kind of insight on why he called you a pet. There are footsteps coming from some stairs somewhere in the house. They're swift, but the tone of the steps are pretty heavy.

“i'll explain later, ‘kay kid?” He winks at you and turns his attention to the direction the steps are coming from.

You want an explanation now, but… It's no longer the forefront thought in your mind when a tall skeleton rounds the corner. Okay, nope. Tall is definitely an understatement. He's towering. Sharp teeth, too. And uh… a scar down his left socket. You're tempted to laugh at his “I'm Not Always A Bitch, Just Kidding, Go Fuck Yourself” t-shirt, but you don't think you can... 

He's stepping closer to you. You didn't notice that you were stepping backwards until a bony hand is stopping your momentum. You startle and jump to the side with a pretty undignified yelp. You don't know why you're being so spooked and jumpy. It's just that…

You look between the two skeletons. The tall one looks confused and slightly concerned, but it's hard to tell with his hard expression. The short one looks like he's just waiting for you to calm down. You don't know why their auras seem so off…

“SANS. WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?” You wince and nearly cover your ears when the tall one speaks. Why is he so loud? He sounds like he swallowed a fucking cheese grater.

“just like i said, boss; she's jumpy.” Those are their names? Apparently the short one's name is Sans? Like word ‘without' or the writing style? And the taller one's name is Boss? Or maybe he's Sans’ boss? Sans and “Boss”? Those are interesting names to say the least…

“WHAT TYPE IS SHE?”

“strong cat. raised with dogs.”

That's a pretty accurate description for you. The names are obvious enough to go by. Cats act sleek, pampered, and kind of petty. Dogs are loud, loyal, and always ready to play. While cats are usually the weaker of the two, it's not that essential. It's all about breeding, bloodlines, and overall attitude. Pets are usually labeled by the time they're five.

“AND HER FILENAME?”

“a- one nine… somethin’ somethin’ five.”

“SANS! ‘SOMETHING’ IS NOT A NUMBER! AND THE FILENAMES CONTAIN SIX DIGITS!”

“sorry, bro. i'll check the paperwork and look it up _digit_ ally.”

The resulting screech of annoyance from Sans’ brother causes your ears to ring. Your hands involuntarily clamp onto your ears and your eyes close in discomfort.

Okay. Puns. Bad idea.

When the yelling stops you unconsciously massage your ears. God, that was unpleasant…. 

You open your eyes and see that they're still bickering, albeit much quieter. You're not sure how long this will last, so you take a seat on the floor. To be honest, watching them talk with only muffled voices is kind of entertaining with everything Sans’ brother does seeming exaggerated. This goes on for two more minutes until Sans seems to redirect the attention back to you.

You take your hands off of your ears and only catch, “...a proper intro. kiddo, c’mon back over.” You stand up and walk back over to Sans. Though, you keep as much space as you can between yourself and his brother.

“boss, this is our new pet, a-19. a-19, this is the boss, papyrus.” 

You nod at Papyrus in greeting. The name “Papyrus" makes much more sense than “Boss". He extends a gloved hand to you and you shake it firmly. It's actually kind of daunting how big his hand is compared to yours.

“HELLO A-19. I WELCOME YOU TO OUR FAMILY.”

You nod and retract your hand. Yay. Another “family”. Yeah, you haven’t heard that line seven times by now. It's a fun song to dance to, but it gets boring after a while. Your feet hurt.

Then you remember something.

“You mentioned a kid,” you state shortly. If you're on babysit duty, you at least want to know who you're spending your time with. Plus, you're genuinely curious.

“FRISK IS ASLEEP.” Papyrus points his thumb towards the stairs behind him, indicating that the child is upstairs. Sans doesn't seem to buy it for a second.

“frisk. c’mon, kid. i know yer back there.”

…

A beat of silence and then a young voice around the bend of the hallway murmurs, “Hi, Puncle Sans…” Puncle?

“as i thought. why aren't ya in bed?”

“Papapyrus was yelling louder than usual.” Papapyrus?? 

Sans chuckles at that and pulls his hands out of his pockets. “okay ya little snoop. c’mere. bedtime’s outta the window tonight. we gotta surprise for ya.”

Oh, you're a present? Understood. You face the hallway, ready for the young monster to turn the corner. 

A monster doesn't come around the corner. It's a human child. They can't be older than twelve, wearing a blue and pink striped shirt for pajamas. It's actually a stark contrast to the red and black walls and carpet. They start walking into the room at an excited pace.

Their eyes are closed while they walk forward, as if they can navigate easily without. You wonder if they'll open them.

And they do. Your eyes lock with red pupils surrounded by blue irises.

“Howdy! I'm Frisk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First impressions are always good!
> 
>  
> 
> (I can't pun for the life of me)


	6. What's Going On In His Head? Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perspective shift~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, I have been so neglectful to this story! I've written about 3 chapters for this story, I just needed to order them correctly. I am soooo sorry... Have a two parter as compensation.
> 
> °°°°°°°° means time skip

Sans is woken up by a pair of arms carefully releasing him. Papyrus is getting up. He makes a groaning sound and grabs Paps’ arm before he can get out of the bed.

“no, paps… stay a few more minutes…”

“Sans, I'm going to be late for work.” Papyrus talks sleepily, lacking his usual boisterous and commanding volume.

“pleeeeease? we had a late night. jus’ five minutes, promise.” God, he's clingy.

Paps rolls his eyes and concedes, lying back down.

“Five minutes.”

“yup.”

°°°°°°°°

“I HOPE YOU'RE FUCKING PROUD OF YOURSELF!!”

Okay, Sans has to admit, he's a little proud of himself. Five minutes turned into a full hour. Now Paps is running around like a madman trying to get everything he needs for work.

“sorry, boss. how was i supposed to know yer a sucker for snuggles?” Sans slips on his red t-shirt, snickering at his brother's trouble.

“YOU SHOULD KNOW AFTER EIGHT MONTHS! I SWEAR, IF I GET FIRED, SANS--!”

“fer bein’ late once? they couldn't fire you, even if they wanted to, boss.”

”STILL! A MARK ON MY RECORD IS A MARK ON MY RECORD! I SWEAR, SOMETIMES YOU'RE THE MOST LAZY, INCONSIDERATE MONSTER IN THE COUNTRY!” Sans mocks a broken heart and tells Papyrus to get out before traffic gets bad. Paps stomps to the door, struggling with his badge. “REMEMBER YOU HAVE TO PICK UP A NEW PET TODAY AND FRISK IS STAYING THE NIGHT!” He slams the door behind him and bolts for his car.

Oh, right. New pet.

Sans still doesn't get why they're getting Frisk a new “sibling". The kid's fine on their own! And they have the royal b. royale twins to keep them company most times. But Tori _insisted_ Frisk needed someone to keep them company when everyone's busy and shit.

Whatever. He'll go to the shop later.

°°°°°°°°

Boring, boring, boring, ALL OF THESE PETS ARE SHIT! If Frisk is gonna be stuck with one of these, then the least Sans could do is not bore the kid to death. All of these humans are pretty damn generic. Sleep. Stay. Roll over. Go play. Act like an animal. Oh looksie, the ones here know sign language! Big cheese. Everyone is practically fluent in that.

Human pets are supposed to be cool because they're sentient. Though, Sans really shouldn't be putting his hopes too high here…. Frisk and the brat are special cases. Maybe he can buy one and Frisk's energetic fashion will rub off on them? It's a pretty good theory, but it's not ideal. He should probably just go to another pet store and--

“Somebody once told me  
That you were gonna troll me!  
All the anons wishing  
That I was dead!”

What the hell? Up until then it had been pretty quiet in here. Now there's a pet singing…. Are you singing the Memelord song? Wow, why is this funny? Sans doesn't know if it's the fact that you're singing spontaneously or if it's because he's just that bored here, but you seem like a good bet as a sibling for Frisk. Live in the moment, right? 

He looks around to get some more information about you from the clerk, but he's not at the front desk.

The singing is abruptly cut off by a choking sound. 

Oh. Well, he found the clerk. 

He seems pretty pissed and you look surprisingly smug for a girl struggling to breathe. You end up saying something that results in you getting socked in the stomach. That seems like a bit much.

Sans decides to intervene when the clerk _literally starts stomping on you_. There’s punishment, but then there’s just being a straight up asshole. Sans yanks the clerk back by this shirt. Of course, the clerk starts to bitch and struggle.

“buddy, you do know it's kinda considered wrong to beat up the pets, right?” It’s actually not considered wrong, it's the law. The queen has a low tolerance for that kind of thing. Plus, it would suck to have the only interesting pet here get treated like that.

Sans releases him and the clerk immediately pulls you off the ground by your hair, resulting in a pained noise from you. “Then I guess I'm lucky A-190775 is a slave class. With this troublemaker all cleaned up, I guess it's hard to tell the difference, though.”

“a slave class? you're pullin’ my femur here!” A slave class? Well that would explain why you weren't struggling or something…. But what’s a slave class doing in a pet shop?

”Oh, I wouldn't call A-19 a pet even if I wanted to! Her old owner used to run this place, and when he kicked the bucket, we were left with this one. And trust me she's a handful.” The clerk jerks your head to emphasize himself.

Really, you don't seem that bad. At worst, you look like you would bite someone. Plus, if you're really as bad as he’s making you out to be, then why haven't they put you down yet? The clerk's probably exaggerating everything. Either way, Sans’ll see for himself how “bad" the girl hanging by her hair is.

“how much?”

The clerk seems slightly surprised, “Wait, what?”

“how much for her? normal cost for the slave trade, right? 100g?”

The silence holds for a second. Sans takes a glance at you and you seem to be getting uncomfortable; or at least it seems more mental discomfort than physical.

“She's not for sale. She's too much of a loose cannon to burden anyone with,” the clerk says. And for a second, the clerk looks genuinely uncomfortable with someone taking you home.

Sans is tempted to just say that he really doesn't fucking care, but he keeps it down.

“i can deal with a loose cannon any day. have you met paps and undyne?” He chuckles, “so, do we have a deal or not?” He holds up a bag of gold to the clerk and waits.

After a few seconds of thinking, the clerk puts you back into the cage and leads Sans to some paperwork. Heh, he's pretty damn lucky that Tori gave him enough money to buy a purebred if he came across one.

Okay, so paperwork… Wow, your file is pretty big. And used. How many times did you get sent back?! He asks the clerk and he says eighteen to twenty times. Yikes…. He'll have to go through all of these later.

“if she’s so bad and impossible to keep, then why haven’t ya put her down or somethin’?” The thought is kind of bugging Sans.

“Owner said not to,” the clerk stated simply as he punches some numbers into a computer.

Interesting. “who owns this place?”

The clerk rolls his eyes and asks, “If you’re so curious, why don’t you ask the little shit you’re about to buy? She's been here longer than me or anyone else.”

“a ‘no answer' would’ve been, fine, kid.”

“Whatever.” He returns his focus to the computer.

Sans finishes all of the signing and gives the clerk 100 gold pieces. He has to say a few words into a computer so that your collar's updated to set on basic commands. He's not gonna tell you to jump off a bridge or something, but the word “stop" should mean something. Plus, the shock trigger word the last person chose sucked. “Origami”? Really? 

He finishes up and grabs the folder off the desk while he walks out. He looks at your cage and sees that you're signing back and forth with the person next to you.

The clerk pulls out your cage and pushes it towards Sans. He picks it up and starts out the door. You wave to all of the pets as you leave, and they wave back. And he's pretty sure he saw you leave the parting gift of flipping off the clerk at the last second.

_Nice one, kid._

°°°°°°°°

Alrighty, you guys are at the car, finally. The afternoon rush was a bitch, so Sans had to park two blocks away.

He puts your cage down and opens the latch, waiting for you to get out. It takes him a second to realize that you're not exactly here. Your eyes are closed as if you're about to go to sleep.

“kid.”

Your eyes open and study your surroundings. Strangely, though, you don't get out. Sans taps on your cage before you shut off again.

“‘ey, kid? do you always zone out like that? or are ya just ignorin’ me?” Okay, maybe he was pushing on you a little and trying to scare you a bit, but whatever. You shake your head immediately, so that's pretty good. “well, if that's the case, how ‘bout you come outta there ‘nd get in the car?”

You look pretty confused. You make a face and he does it back, which just seems to confuse you more.

Sans holds back a laugh as you clumsily climb out of the cage. You’re pretty wobbly on your feet, like you haven’t gotten a chance to walk, let alone stand, in days. You’re finally able to stand up straight and Sans is actually pretty impressed. You’re not really as muscular and tried as Undyne, but you have a type of skinny buff; like if you showed your stomach, there would be subtle traces of your abdominal muscles.

“see? that wasn't so bad, right?” He lifts his hand up to ruffle your hair, like he does with Frisk sometimes.

What he doesn’t see coming is you flinching and dropping to kick him. Is this what that clerk meant by “loose cannon”? Do you just randomly attack people or something? That's less of a loose cannon and more of a machine gun. 

He jumps and teleports behind you. You make a startled noise when your leg doesn't hit anything and kind of lose your balance.

To your credit, Sans doesn't really think about his next action. He says the trigger word before he can think or you can even realize what happened.

Your screams are immediate and blood curtling. They catch some people's attention, but most just carry on with their day. You fall on the floor, curling into yourself to try soothing the pain away, but it's useless. The shocks you're feeling are linked to your soul. Your very own essence is being attacked, resulting in the worst punishment possible. And hell, it must hurt bad; Sans can almost see a glow trying to force its way out of your chest to fight back, but unable to actually meet the air.

You unconsciously grab at your hair as tears stream across your eyes and onto the pavement. It takes Sans a second to realize your begging in between screams. He says the release word, thinking that you'll probably go into shock of this keeps up. Heh, not a good time for puns...

Your breaths come out quite and small, trying to return to its normal pace. Yeah, you're not in a position to do any serious attacks soon. Sans crouches down next to you and turns your body over so that you're facing him. He feels you flinch under his hand and backs up a couple of feet to give you some space.

“so, kid, tell me why ya did that. you don't seem the type to be that difficult… or stupid,” he mumbles the end of his sentence. And you really don't seem like the type to try something like that. You're an analyzer. You think three steps ahead before doing anything. That's Sans’ hypothesis, anyways.

You lift your hands up and move them. It takes Sans a second to realize you're signing, ‘--didn't do anything and you were going to hit me.’ Your hands flop onto your stomach tiredly. 

What? When did he..? Crap.

“fuck. me.” He gives himself a firm facepalm because this was so fucking stupid. You're a slave class! Of course you're not used to casually being touched! He really should have thought of that before fucking you up so bad. Man, this is gonna be such a long talk...

Sans picks you up, not wanting to make you have to get up yourself. He unconsciously buckles you in and moves on to put your cage in the trunk. When he drives out of the lot, it's pretty awkward. He can feel you looking at the back of his head. It's unnerving as hell...

“hey, uh, if ya wanna sleep, go ahead. we've got a lot to do when we get home.” And he really means _a lot._ Like telling you not to attempt taking out people's legs when slightly scared.

Good on you, you basically pass out right when he suggests it.


	7. What's Going On In His Head? Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter where I honestly question if this was how I wanted to characterize Sans.

Fooooooood.

He flipped through your medical folder to see what you can and can't eat and your allergies are pretty interesting. And by interesting, he means _hilarious!_

**Tomato Ingestion Reaction: Severe Irritation Solution: Plain Yogurt**

**Poultry Ingestion Reaction: Digestive Problems Solution: N/A**

How the hell is someone allergic to _tomatoes_ of all things? The poultry thing, he kind of gets it, but tomatoes is just so random! What kind of genetics is that!?

He pulls up to the Grillby's drive thru and doesn't bother with the menu. Perks of being here all the time, he doesn't have to think about what he wants.

“i’ll take three burgs and two salads. full plates to go.”

“Five meals? Got friends coming over or something?” The girl on the intercom asks. Aubree. He thinks her name is Aubree.

“you could say that.”

“E-la-bor-ate.”

“kid's coming over.” Sans states simply.

“Three out of five, Sans.”

“and we gotta new pet. as if I know what she eats.” Well he could ask, but you're still out cold.

“Aww, cute! First window, Sans.” The intercom cuts off.

Sans doesn't wanna lie about your class, but… Saying he bought a slave sounds kind of weird, right? It's not like slavery in looked down on or anything, but Sans isn't for the whole ‘I can kill you and literally no one would care’ vibe that comes with slavery.

He stops at the window and is greeted by an ecstatic bunny girl. “Can I please see her, Sansy!? I wanna see her!”

“geez, aubree, chill! she's sleepin’ in the back seat, so not today.” She pouts at him, but makes no further comments.

He pays for the food and tells Aubree he'll bring you by later this week if he can.

Let's see… He did the shopping this morning, he doesn't have to go anywhere, and he bought dinner… Nice! He finished everything early today! He dials up Paps.

The phone rings twice when Papyrus picks up. “What do you want, Sans? I'm busy.”

“sorry, boss. just wanted to say i’m on my way home.”

“Did you get everything?”

“yup.”

“Everything?”

“yeah, boss.”

“Okay then, I'll see you at home.”

“uh, hey before ya go! about the new pet…” Sans should tell him he got a slave class instead of a pet, save a lot of confusion. But how would he put that? Is there an easy way to say that? Do you say something like this over the phone?

“Yes?”

“she's, uh, jumpy.” Shit.

“Jumpy?”

“yeah, didn't have the best past. you'd think she's never been pet before.” _Which she probably hasn't._

Papyrus tsks at the other end of the line. “She won't hurt anyone, will she?”

“probably not? i mean, she did get a little defensive when I tried to pet her earlier...” _Yeah, a little._

“Ugh… Can we talk more on this later? I don't have time to go over this right now.”

“sure. see ya at home, boss.”

“I will see you there, Sans. And make sure she is proper! Frisk is here and I do not want them to have a bad first impression!”

“‘kay, boss. bye.” Sans cuts the line and glances at the back seat. Torn black leggings and a graying t-shirt. That's good enough, right? Right.

Ugh, Sans is not gonna hear the end of it when he explains your class identity to Paps…

°°°°°°°°

The drive takes another twenty minutes before he pulls up in the driveway. Home sweet home. 

He looks in the back seat and sees that you're still out. He considers carrying you in, but the idea seems pretty weird.

He waves a hand in front of your face while calling you out from your sleep. “a-19. kid? kid, c’mon, wake up. we're home.”

You wake up, and for a second, you look like you don't know where you are. You try lifting your head up, but you wince and put it back down. Ah, collars aren't exactly something comfortable to sleep in. You rub at your neck while taking in your surroundings. 

You undo your seatbelt and stare at him for a second. You wanna get out of the car. Ehhh….

“not yet. before we go inside, we have ta lay down some ground rules.” Yeah, rules! You're slave class, so you follow those, right? But slaves that follow the rules don't get sent back repeatedly, huh?

You nod and he starts to say rules that come off the top of his head. He just needs basics.

“rule 1: break any of the rules and i'll turn yer collar on and put it onna timer ta go off for five minutes every hour.” He has no idea if he can even do that, but it seems to catch your attention well enough. 

He continues, “rule 2: don't lash out in there. we won't hit ya. clearly, you've never played chicken or anything, so i made sure to tell everyone you're a bit trigger happy.” The hitting thing had to be addressed or things would get ugly quickly... And by ‘he told everyone’, he means ‘he’s told no one except Papyrus kind of’.

He cuts you off before you can retort. “rule 3: this is a big house with a few people that talk with actions if words aren’t helpin’ ‘em. don't be a smartass with anyone here.” Specifically Undyne. _Especially_ not Undyne.

“rule 4: ya get yer own room. have fun with that.” Yeah, have fun with that.

“rule 5: you have free range of the house. don't break anything, ‘kay?”

Last rule, most important of them all: Frisk. “rule 6: you might be left at home by yourself or with the kid a lot, so don't blow the place up, will ya?”

There. All of the important stuff’s out of the way. 

Kinda?

Not laid out very well, but it's there.

Sans unlocks the car and you both climb out. Man, the temperature sucks tonight… He sees you shiver when you climb out of the car. 

“hey, you okay, kid?”

“I'm fine,” you state. Sans has the slightest idea that you don't like him.

Sans grabs dinner out of the passenger seat and leads you towards the house. Man, he really hopes Paps doesn't make him send you back. Uniqueness is a _really_ hard thing to come by when it comes to humans. To see something different in a slave of all things is plain rare. Usually slaves that can think beyond orders are euthanized, reclassified, or locked up.

You weren't any of those and that intrigued him.

He stops and unlocks all three of the locks. You don't notice that they all use the same key, though.

He opens the door and you seem… surprised? Yeah, surprised. The color scheme is something to get used to. Sans puts the bag down at the door. Time to make a good first impression...

“boss!” He calls into the house. “hey, bro, are you home? i brought the new pet!”

You give him an extremely confused look at the class identity he gives you. Maybe he should have told you the game plan along with the rules? Eh, no time now - Paps is already coming down the stairs. Heavy footsteps are descending down the stairs with the faintest sound of smaller steps right behind them.

Frisk, you little sneak.

“i'll explain later, ‘kay kid?” He gives you a wink and gives his attention to the stairs.

To Sans, how Papyrus is dressed right now is relatively cute; A pink t-shirt with a silly quote and lotus night pants. Cute. You, on the other hand, don't see it. Your fear is coming off in waves even though you're not showing it much. Papyrus continues to walk towards you two and you start stepping backwards.

_C’mon, kid. Yet braver than this…_ Sans lifts his hand up so you can't step back any farther.

You yell and jump to the side, scared. 

You look so scared. Why?

Sans stands there patiently as you find yourself staring at the bone brothers.

“SANS. WHAT'S WRONG WITH HER?”

Sans directs his attention to Papyrus. _Your guess is as good as mine..._ Sans gives him a shrug, “just like i said, boss; she's jumpy.”

Papyrus gives you a once-over. “WHAT TYPE IS SHE?”

“strong cat. raised with dogs.” Which makes sense in his head. You seem as strong and confident as a dog, just… more cautious?

“AND HER FILENAME?”

Uh… “a- one nine… somethin’ somethin’ five.” In his defense, he's been calling you ‘A-Nineteen’ all day and had no reason to remember the entire thing.

“SANS! ‘SOMETHING’ IS NOT A NUMBER! AND THE FILENAMES CONTAIN SIX DIGITS!”

“sorry, bro. i'll check the paperwork and look it up _digitally_.”

The resulting screech of annoyance from Paps is totally worth the shitty pun. Sans sees you're not enjoying the puns, however, and calms Papyrus down. Their banter continues for a minute until Sans remembers you're still here.

“sorry ta cut ya off, but i think you two need a proper intro. kiddo, c’mon back over.” You stand up and walk back over to Sans. “boss, this is our new pet, a-19. a-19, this is the boss, papyrus.” 

You nod and shake hands with Papyrus. “HELLO A-19. I WELCOME YOU TO OUR FAMILY.”

Papyrus’ statement seems to both annoy and catch your attention. “You mentioned a kid.” Oh, right. You seemed pretty interested in that in the car.

“FRISK IS ASLEEP.” Papyrus points his thumb towards the stairs behind him.

Bullshit.

Sans indicates his attention to the hallway bend. “frisk. c’mon, kid. i know yer back there.”

…

“Hi, Puncle Sans…”

“as i thought. why aren't ya in bed?”

“Papapyrus was yelling louder than usual.” _Yeah right._

“okay ya little snoop. c’mere. bedtime’s outta the window tonight. we gotta surprise for ya.” Though, it isn't really much of a surprise anymore since they probably heard everything…

They excitedly round the corner in their pajamas. They approach you and you both kind of just stare at each other. There's a pretty thick silence until Frisk introduces themselves.

“Howdy! I'm Frisk!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I wrote scripts before I decided to do something normal. If you were to ever watch me write, you would just see lines of dialogue with stage directions. Then I would add all of the inbetweens.
> 
> ********
> 
> Ex:
> 
> "I hate you!" Seething.
> 
> "I know." Straight faced.
> 
> "You can't just keep me here forever!" Getting in his face.
> 
> "Lillian, I--" Placating.
> 
> Slapped him "Don't you dare call me that. That's not my name. I am Lilly. I'm. Not. Her."  
> ********  
> And then, with my writing magic:
> 
> I don't think after that. Everything just bubbles over and I start going off on him...
> 
> "I hate you!" I know I don't... I'm just, I'm just not a replacement! I'm not her!
> 
> "I know." He speaks so calmly like knows he deserved this. And he does deserve this! How dare he?!
> 
> Before I know it, I'm nose to nose with him. "You can't just keep me here forever!" Not like this. Not _for_ this.
> 
> "Lillian, I--"
> 
> ...
> 
> .....
> 
> A loud smacking sound filled the room. 
> 
> My palm stings.
> 
> He fucking knows my name. _**He fucking knows what my name is.**_
> 
> "Don't you dare call me that. That's not my name," I grab him by the collar so I know he's looking at me, "I am Lilly. _I'm. Not. Her._ "
> 
> I let him go and walk away. I'm done with this crap.
> 
> ********
> 
> Did that make sense?

**Author's Note:**

> *zips up hoodie and curls into a ball* Let the hell begin...


End file.
